This Time Imperfect
by Black Bunny Factory
Summary: ADOPTED: AU Tom Riddle was born with the gift of immortality; however, having lived long he has desired to now end his life.


**DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter is owned, copyright, and trademarked to J.K. Rowling. All other novels, fiction, etc., that is used here is also in no way property Black Bunny Factory. All rights reserved to the ones who created them.**

**A/N:**Yoddles, this is Fiona! Hannah is in the hospital right now so she wasn't able to start on Chapter 2, but she'll get there soon. So right now it is only chapter one, and also Sable went through and revised somethings in here, but left it as original as BlaqkNightCrown had made it. Also, if you could, please give BlaqkNightCrown your condolances, her mother past away sometime ago.

Now with out further ado, here is chappy 1, enjoy!

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**This Time Imperfect**

**Adopted from BlaqkNightCrown**

Influenced by:

_A Friend Name Voldemort_, by DuShuZhi (Fanfiction)

_In Sleep He Sang To Me_, by Tainted Visions (Fanfiction)

_Breaking Dawn_, by Stephenie Meyer

_The Society of S_, by Susan Hubard

Summary: AU Tom Riddle was born with the gift of immortality; however, having lived long he desires to end his life. Not seeing the world for what it is; he longs for a companion to understand him. Thus he meets Harry Potter a boy who could change his perspective

**Musical Inspiration for Title & Story:**

"_I cannot leave here, I cannot stay,  
Forever haunted, more than afraid.  
Asphyxiate on words I would say,  
I'm drawn to a blackened sky as I turn blue._

_There are no flowers, no not this time,  
There'll be no angels gracing the lines,  
Just these stark words, I find.  
I'd show a smile, but I'm too weak,  
I'd share with you could I only speak,  
Just how much this, hurts me…"_

_This Time Imperfect _by AFI

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Year: _1810, 23rd of June_

Boisterous noises emitted from a brothel that was, but a few blocks away from a Church. Strange how things go about in this town, however, that was not his concern at the moment, and by _his_ I speak of Tom Riddle.

As any story would, we begin with our protagonist, the handsome and irresistible, Tom Marvolo Riddle. Tom born many centuries ago under the name of Valerie Lloyd, though later through the years, Tom had changed his name to blend in with each new society he walked into. Sometimes he would be a Morgan Fin, or he would switch over to Akira Saito; either way it never stayed the same. However, he had come to England on a mission, to find the man who was legend to have the ability to kill an immortal, the man known only as Gellert Grindelwald.

All through Tom's life he had despised his existence, he hated when people appraised him for what they thought a gift, while he in turn saw it as a curse. To live forever was nothing admirable, not even amiable. At first, of course, Tom found himself enjoying his blessing, immortality and good looks, plus a kick; magic. But as he grew older and soon realized that at age twenty he would never age, he began to recoil at his existence. Having to live on while watching the one you love age and then die, it was unbearable.

No matter which way you put it, or told him his benefits, he found himself a curse born to plague the world. His kin, his own people shunned him when he had asked for his death, none would bother to listen to his pleas, or grant his request. Years of inquiry from one person to another, trying to find any possible way to end his misery and he could be reunited with his fair and beautiful Adrienne. Finally, God had seemed to shed some light of hope upon his dark journey, and he was told that in England there was man by the name of Grindelwald who could relieve him of his misery.

Nonetheless, let us return to the present where a handsome man had entered the brothel with an air of pristine.

"Oh, I remember that lad, nasty little feller!" one of the bartender's of the brothel was entertaining with another man. Human he was, but oddly handsome just as long as he kept his mouth shut. Another laugh echoed from a corner where a couple of men sat, they were being enlightened by a pretty girl.

"What can I get for ya?" asked another bartender his question directed to our pale protagonist. Tom eyed the old fat man suspiciously, "I have come to meet a Mr. Dursley." He said, his voicing ringing as if it were bell chimes. The old bartender backed away a bit and scanned Tom's gracious features before nodding his head.

"The fool been awaitin' for ya." He said as he picked up a dirty glass from the table, and began cleaning it with his dirty rag, Tom found it pointless though.

"Well, I am here, where is he?" he inquired once more, Tom truly desired to leave this place. His enhanced sense of smell allowed him to almost taste the brothel, and it made his nose burn.

"Take the stairs in the back, outside. Go to the second floor and it's the fourth room on the right." The bartender replied rather roughly. Tom mouthed his thanks and walked out of the brothel, exiting though, from the back.

The bartender had spoken of stairs outside, but he did not mention how rustic the metal frame was. Tom highly doubted the stairs would handle his weight. Taking a quick look around his environment Tom levitated himself to the second floor landing. Quickly he walked inside the brothel, it smelt no different than before, although, air misted in from an open window somewhere.

"Fourth door on the right…" Tom trailed off as he walked to meet his destination. He lightly tapped on the door, pausing to listen with his sensitive ears, not that he liked to eavesdrop or anything, but it was good to keep tabs on who you're making business with.

Shuffling feet on wood could be muffled out. Sounds of raspy, quick whispers were made before the door creaked open to reveal a very stout, short, and rough featured man—not to mention neck less.

"Err, excuse me young sir, who are you?" the stout man asked while whipping out his glasses to take a look at Tom, who stood in front of him. Tom's pale looks seemed to take an affect as the man gaped at him.

"I was told that a Mr. Dursley was here, I presume you are him?" Tom asked calmly his cloak tightly wrapped around him. He would never admit it, but he was a germ-a-phobic person. He preferred to just say he hated filthy things; of course, scrubbing your hands five times a day was something _normal. _

"Ah, yes I am he… You must be Mr. Riddle?" Mr. Dursley took off his glasses and robbed his eyes once more, if only Tom knew what a sight he was to behold. "Yes" he stiffly said peeking at the room behind the stout, middle aged man.

"Uh, well come in sir." Tom followed reluctantly into the room; he kept reminding himself that he was only doing this to find Grindelwald and nothing else. The room our immortal hero walked into was nothing fancy. Just like any stinky motel room, it was the same only the things in it seemed out of dated and mismatched.

"Care for a drink?" the man asked as he poured himself some whisky. Tom didn't answer he just looked daringly at the dusty, stained upholstered chair which stood waiting for someone to sit in it. Mr. Dursley caught what Tom was staring at and smiled, "you may sit if you like?" If the old man wasn't so dense, he would know the problem was that Tom _didn't_ want to sit in something like _that_.

"Mr. Dursley, I am a busy man. May we please carry on with business?" Tom paused and tore his eyes away from the dirty chair to look at Mr. Dursley, "I prefer to stand as well."

The stout man recoiled a bit at the cold eyes that pierced his very being. "Yes, yes let's…" he mumbled as he made his way to his desk.

"Alright, I have called you because I have a problem. You see I own a very wealthy company, Blooming and Bucks Co., and unfortunately my once dear friend has now made a company of his own, Farmer and Hale, to rival mine. I have been plotting a way to plummet his profits, but my plans fail miserably.

"It has recently come to my attention that, my once dear friend, has hired a very elite body guard, and to top it off this body guard happens to be one of those…." The fool stopped and looked about the room; he had a paranoid aroma waft around him, "magical people."

Tom could tell that the man had brought this up with many people before him, and that they probably all had the same thought in mind '_nutter'_. Luckily for Mr. Dursley, Tom was one of those _magical people_ and he truly didn't care for what people thought.

"And?" Tom said expectantly, Mr. Dursley wiped some sweat off his face. "The body guard is a man named Gellert Grindelwald; I have been informed that he is some kind of symbol to the magical people?" The last part was a question left open to air. Tom guessed Mr. Dursley wanted his confirmation of that fact.

"Yes, he is an enigma…" the immortal trailed off, seemingly becoming more uncomfortable in the filthy room as every minute passed.

"Well, I want to hire you, I plan a full on war with the Farmer and Hale Co., so I need someone to handle this Grindelwald." Tom already began walking back to the door, knowing where this was going, "I will offer to help, but my motive is to face Grindelwald. I will not meddle with anything else, although, I will want a place to rest, and one that isn't so-"Tom looked about the room before finishing, "_obscene"_

Mr. Dursley nodded vigorously, "of course, of course… You will not be staying here, I am sorry you had to come here, I see it has given you the wrong impression, but I sure you my home his pristine and cleaner than air." Mr. Dursley made a movement to leave the room.

"If you will come with me, we will head over to my manor where you can settle in. I appreciate you complying with this; you don't how hard it was for me to find someone who would believe me." Tom frowned, but followed the man out of the room. He needed to get out, who could stand such a filthy place, but a small warmth wafted Tom's body, he finally was near his destination now all he had to do was get the Dark wizard he had heard so much about, finish him off.

'_Adrienne, my love, I will come to you soon…'_ Tom thought as he eyed the familiar rustic stairs.

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"Wake up Mr. Potter!" someone was calling to him, calling to a small boy who cuddled up in his bundle of blankets. As our readers can see we have come to finally meet the _other_ protagonist of this story. Young Harry Potter, Mr. Dursley's dear cousin.

"Mr. Potter I said wake up!" someone cruel with no heart ripped the blankets from the small, fragile boy who shuddered when the cold air hit him.

"Just a few more minutes, please!" he whined. Harry was known throughout the manor as the lazy bones, always sleeping constantly, never waking, not even to have breakfast.

"I will not have my charge sleeping at such an hour, you need to get up and get dress, or my name isn't Minerva McGonagall!" the old woman smacked a hand on the little boy's skinny leg causing him to shot up and glare murderously at the old hag.

"You fiend, Minerva, how dare you?" Harry shouted his eyes narrowing at the old woman who already was ignoring his outburst.

"Mr. Potter, as your caretaker, I must come to certain extincts to wake you. Your Uncle will be arriving soon with a guest, hopefully, and you must be presentable. Now up!" she commanded before grabbing Harry's scrawny arms and removing his clothing.

"Come along Mr. Potter, you need to bathe and get in your good clothes." Minerva pulled the reluctant child into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind them once they entered.

"No fuss, young boy. Get up." Harry scowled and stomped his little feet.

"I will not take a bath, I like to be dirty, and you can shove it ya old hag!" another smack, this time aimed for the delicate face.

"Mr. Potter, where did this vulgar language come from? I better hope you haven't been hanging around Mr. Black, the man has no limit when it comes to his mouth." Harry snickered as the woman tried with all her might to pull him towards the water filled tub.

However, Harry was more stubborn than a mule, and in no way was he going to get into that bathtub. "Try as you might, Minerva, I am not getting in." with that he bit down on the old woman's wrinkly hand then made for the door.

Minerva shrieked as she clutched her hand to her heaving bosom, the child was a monster, so troublesome and spoiled.

Harry ran out running in the nude down some stairs, he would go through this ritual every morning. The old hag would try to wake him up, and then when she undressed him he would make his move for freedom. Now I am sure you're wondering why Harry would want to run naked, well the boy was mischievous of course, and like all little boys he was obsessed with his _private parts_. He liked the look on people's faces when they saw him run around the house naked. However, he soon realized he would have to find a new trick to make them stare, for now the servants were getting use to his misbehavior.

"McGonagall" a voice Harry knew so well called from the bottom stairs. Harry knew if his Uncle saw him he would be punished again, not that he cared since he was always punished. But Harry was curious to know how far his _punishment_ would go this time if he flashed himself in front of the _guest_.

Well there was only one way to find out. Harry sucked in a deep breath then smiled his Cheshire cat grin before zooming down the stairs to meet his Uncle, and _guest._

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Tom never expected this in his entire life, nor did he think he would feel like this. Tom gaped as a small, scrawny looking boy made his way down to the landing with a huge smile plastered on his face. One would wonder what would make a immortal such as Tom gape at a child, well it wasn't because the boy's cheeks were slightly sunken in, or the fact the boy had dark circles under his eyes, or the fact you could see his ribs, or…. The list goes on. It was the fact that the small child was nude.

"BOY" Mr. Dursley bellowed his face taking on a tomato red, hopefully from embarrassment and not anger, the poor boy would get the beating of a life time.

Another person made their appearance, and immediately Tom sensed an electrical magical shock from her. It seemed the woman had too.

"McGonagall, why is Harry not dressed?!" the stout man thundered as he aimed to grab the boy either by the arm, or the neck. Tom chose the latter seeing how Mr. Dursley looked ready to kill. However, it seemed the emerald eyed child had other plans. The boy quickly ducked out of the man's grasp and came skidding to a halt in front of Tom.

"Hello, you must be the guest, I'm Harry Potter, Mr. Dursley's nephew." The boy looked up at Tom with his enormous green eyes. Tom inwardly shuddered and took a step back which to his dismay didn't go unnoticed; his behavior only intrigued the boy more causing him to close the space between them.

"HARRY! Leave Mr. Riddle alone, and get dressed right this insistent!" Mr. Dursley huffed wildly and a mad glint sparkled in his eyes. Tom thought he could see a different emotion as well in those eyes, and he did not like the way that Mr. Dursley gazed at his nephew with some kind of hunger look.

Harry ignored his Uncle, he found Tom fascinating, and the man was pale and beautiful. It's not something a little boy saw every day. Before Tom could register the young lad engulfed himself into his cloak, and he could hear the boy's small heartbeat and the sound of him inhaling his scent deeply.

A snarl ripped out and Harry was yanked back, and a frown now graced his features. "Boy, get dress and wait for me in the study, it seems I have to give you another _lesson_." Tom's hand twitched at the word _lesson_, he could pretty much guess what kind of lesson that Mr. Dursley wanted to give his nephew.

Harry looked at Tom once more before reluctantly leaving with a paled faced McGonagall. "I am dreadfully sorry about that, Mr. Riddle. The boy is a bit out of control…" Mr. Dursley trailed off. "Err hm, anyways let me show you to your room."

The small journey to his awaiting room was a quiet one, not that Tom minded really, he preferred the quietness anyways. They stopped at a door, and Mr. Dursley pushed it open for Tom. The immortal peered inside to see a room that could fit fifty people or more. It pleased him to know that he wasn't going to have to occupy some obscene room again.

"The servants are at your disposal Mr. Riddle, is there anything you need?" Mr. Dursley said in a rather hasty way, it seems his mind was elsewhere. Tom inwardly shuddered in disgust, "No, Mr. Dursley." The stout man grinned slyly then left, for someone so large he was pretty quick.

Tom sighed as he shut the door behind him. He threw off his cloak and inspected the area. The bed was on his left which was some feet away. On his right was the bathroom on the far corner, the door that lead to it. Beside the bathroom door was a large ornate Spanish dresser. A desk was perched in front of a window that was on the middle wall facing him. The color scheme was not something Tom would have picked, yellows, blues, and greens of light were not his thing. But then again he wouldn't live long to complain.

A small smile graced his lips, his wish would finally come true, and he would die and never have to suffer again. Even if it meant he would be sent straight to hell, it didn't matter; hell came when he lost Adrienne so he had no fear.

Fearless, was what you would call someone like Tom, however, no matter what anyone thinks we all have one biggest fear, and that is being alone. Knowing that everywhere you go in life you walk, you stand, you sit, and you breathe all alone. Inside your head you are alone, and that was what Tom felt. However, when Adrienne was alive the loneliness wasn't so overbearing and he could enjoy his long life.

Was it a punishment that God took his love away, or was it a test, maybe it was predestined? Tom always wondered why it was him, why he had to go through such turmoil. But all in all Tom needn't concern himself with these pitiless qualms, he had better things to do. A duel with a renowned dark wizard, although, Tom knew his pride would burn when he purposely lost so his life could end, he knew it was for the best. Besides—

"Mr. Riddle"

Tom blinked as he was brought back from his reverie. "Yes" he asked calmly as he turned on his heel to see a young woman who looked oddly familiar.

"Your lunch" she whispered quietly holding a tray of food for him to see. His smile was gentle and warm, "I am sorry to inform you, but I do not need food the way you humans do." Tom said calmly. She looked at him in surprise and stood at the door for a minute before retreating.

"I see, sorry to have disturbed you, sir." Tom waved her off dismissively. Once the sound of the door click shut, Tom decided a bath would be in order. He felt dirty coming from the brothel.

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_A woman with beautiful long mahogany brown hair, and bright green eyes smiled up to a man that walked her way. A harp in one hand and another stroking the strings making a melodic tune erupt from the small instrument. The man smiled pleasantly at the woman who returned it with an even brighter force. _

_Her nose wrinkled as the man sat next to her, she was obviously laughing from something he said. The man's pale face seemed to twinkle in the light. The sun shining brightly in the blue sky as the birds chirped with spring feeling. The garden the couple sat in was filled with a variety of flowers from Azaleas to Paper White Narcissuses. It was all such a pleasant picture. The perfect couple' leaning close together._

"_Valerie, it's so lovely this garden. I feel so alive and at peace. I could sit here and listen to the humming birds wings beat; I could lay here and look at the moon at night, forever. It's all to perfect, sometimes it scares me, all this happiness I have been blessed with." Her voicew as angelic as her face, and she lifted her delicate hand to caress the man's face, his deep brown eyes burrowing into her green ones._

"_Adrienne, anything you desire I can give you. Fear not anything, for I will protect you from everything…" he trailed off as he cupped her hand pulling it from his cheek and pressing his lips lightly on it. "You are my happiness." He whispered. Her nose wrinkle once more as she laughed so carelessly. She titled her head to the side and clasped both her hands on his face, dropping her harp in the process._

"_And you, Valerie, what can I give you to in return for all the wonderful, magnificent things you have given me?" he smiled softly and said, "My love, you have given me all that I wanted… There is nothing you can give expect your gorgeous smiles and sweet lips. I enjoy those very much."_

_She laughed once more before kissing him tenderly. Abruptly, the scene changed, there in Valerie's arms he held a corpse rotting from the core. The smell was unbearable, and on the corpse's skeletal hand was a shimmering ring. Valerie recoiled, screaming incoherently as he tried to pry himself from the dead body. But to no avail, it clung tightly on to him; his love's melodic voice echoing from the body's hollow mouth._

"_Why didn't you save me?" over and over again it repeated, sending the immortal into an insane tantrum._

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Harry rubbed his sore arm from where his Uncle had gripped him so hard. He almost thought the man would rip it off, oh how he wanted his Uncle to just drop dead! He would be so happy after that because then he would be free, free to do whatever that pleases him.

"Mr. Potter I need to turn around. I need to see your back, and quit touching your arm." Harry rolled his eyes at Minerva's commanding voice, she could be such a prick, but then again she was probably the only one who would even bother to care for him.

A hiss emitted from the small boy, his back smarting from the gauze that was applied to his back. "Stay still, Mr. Potter" Minerva grounded out through gritted teeth, she truly hated to see the boy in this condition, but at least it wasn't like the _last _time.

A cold chill ran down Minerva's spin as she recalled that _incident_. Harry was beaten to a point where she almost thought him dead, his back was caned so hard, bruises, cuts, scrapes, littered his face, hands, and arms.

But most of all what she was horrified was that Harry's anus was ripped completely. If wasn't for the fact that Harry had magic running threw his veins, he would have been dead the next day. Harry's Uncle was a sick, sadistic bastard, and she wouldn't even think of him as an _uncle_

"Minerva, you're pressing to hard." Harry whined, squirming under her grip. She sighed as she came back to reality, and focused on bandaging up her charge. Harry groaned a bit as Minerva made him straighten his back. "You're hurting me" he whined once more. Minerva sighed, "Concentrate on something else and you won't feel a thing." She advised as she continued applying the gauze.

Harry wrinkled his nose, and furrowed his brows as he tried to think of something to distract himself. Harry smiled slowly as a thought came to him.

"Wasn't he beautiful Minerva?" Harry asked as he looked dreamily at the wall, they were in the kitchen which was empty at the time being.

Minerva paused trying to comprehend what Harry was implying to, "You mean the guest?" Harry nodded, wincing when he jerked his head to far up. "Careful Mr. Potter" Harry grumbled under his breath as he listened to the 'Mother Henning' of his care taker.

"Well" he said expectantly, Minerva put down the gauze and reached to pick up the bandages. Then she began to wound the around Harry's waist and mid-lower back, "Yes, he was very handsome. Quite the charmer I suppose." Harry smiled.

"Minerva I want to marry him." That caught his caretaker off guard as she accidentally grazed a nail over his already wounded back. Harry yelped in surprise and got off the stool he was perched on.

"What the bloody hell was that for, you fiend?" Harry said his expression was one of hurt and betrayal. Minerva had forgotten how sensitive her charge was to the way people touched him, or spoke to him. "Oh, Mr. Potter I meant no harm, I am sorry. Please sit." Harry scowled at her then took off. Minerva huffed in irritation, but got up to go and retrieve him. She needed to be more careful, even though Harry had such a vicious and mischievous attitude; he truly was a fragile child.

Harry ran as fast as his little legs would go, he was furious at Minerva, how dare she hurt his back when he was already in pain. He sighed as he rounded the corner and spotted the hidden stairs. He launched himself up the steps, pausing every now and then to groan from the pain.

Harry wondered where the gorgeous man was staying. He thought on it a little longer, and remembered one of the servants telling Minerva that the guest did not need food. He had just come in from his Uncle's study when they had finished their conversation. He was happy though that he overheard that a Mr. Riddle was across from his room.

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Tom gasped as he pulled himself up from the water, it was not that he feared from drowning, but the vivid nightmare he just had frightened him to no end. He quickly pulled his nude form out the water and dried himself. He walked out of the large bathroom and into his room. Dropping the towel on a chair and then heading for his small bag on the bed, which contained his clothing.

He reached out with a shaky hand to pick up his bag, but abruptly stopped to calm himself. Tom's body trembled as the dream still itched in his mind, reminding him of what he lost. The immortal dropped on his knees and gripped the frame of the bed. A sob erupting from him, _'no, not now, not here… I can't…'_ Tom thought as his body shook uncontrollably. His resolve was breaking and his mind was leaning to the border of insanity. He couldn't break down like he did so long ago; he would be a danger to himself and everyone around him. Not only that, but he would hinder his chances of facing Grindelwald, which he would not allow.

Luckily for Tom a sharp slam of the door returned him back to present, and cleared his foggy mind. He looked to see Harry standing next to him. Tom stared at the boy who was now inhaling deeply, obviously absorbing his scent. Tom recalled many centuries ago a man had said he smelt like honey suckles, he felt rather offended by it, so much for the whole dark wizard look.

"You smell… Delicious…" Harry said between intakes of breath, he then beamed brightly at Tom who was still fixated on not talking. Harry titled his head slightly and looked at Tom with a curious expression. The immortal shuddered as the gesture reminded him of someone.

Tom's eyes widen, though, when Harry unexpectedly leaned in and brushed his lips against his. Tom's body broke out in tremors when Harry did it a second time. But the immortal quickly pulled himself together and gently pushed the boy away from him.

"What do you think you're doing?" Tom asked as he erected himself to stand, and causing the boy to look even smaller then he already did. Harry smiled sweetly, "I wanted to see you, to smell you… I like you." He stated firmly before enveloping Tom's leg in a hug, the boy was much too short to reach his waist, and both seemed to be unfazed by Tom's nude form.

The immortal froze; Harry's actions just kept on surprising him, one moment the boy gathered the courage to kiss him, the next the boy was hugging his leg. Tom shook the boy off before noticing the horrid slash wounds on Harry's back.

Tom frowned at the sight, he was stunned that the boy was actually still walking with such painful wounds; did the boy contain that much stamina? Tom's answer came when Harry slumped on his leg, the boy whimpered in small gasps of breath. The immortal's frown deepened further, but he sighed, the boy needed help. Might as well be kind and do it, he knew Adrienne would have his head if he threw Harry out…

The thought of his beloved sent a stroke of pain in his chest, but he quickly ignored it his concern was Harry and Harry alone. Tom reached down and placed the boy on his bed, he wordlessly spelled his clothes on him and then took out some vials and clothe from his bag.

Harry watched Tom eagerly never taking his eyes off the man. Tom gestured for Harry's back to face him, and the boy complied. He set to work tending and mending the wounds on the small boys back. It wasn't, but an hour later that he completed bandaging Harry up.

Tom stood back to look at his handy work, a small satisfied sigh escaped him, he was perfect after all. Harry turned around only to have some strange like clothing thrown at his face. Harry realized it was a shirt and put it on.

"Thank you" he said shyly as he hugged the large red shirt. Tom let slip a small smirk on his lips as he and the boy locked eye contact.

"I am surprise you're not out cold. Those wounds were deadly, maybe even fatal." Tom sighed ignoring the incredulous look he got from Harry, just like everyone else the boy was startled by Tom's angelic voice.

"Harry" Tom said snapping the boy out of his trance. "Oh, it's happened a lot, I'm use to it." Tom frowned at the boy's indifference to his injuries. "You are a courageous one." He said slowly not sure why he even said that.

Harry beamed at him with pride, "I have you know, my father was the bravest man in the world." The boy held up his head high, but the effort was strained because of the pain in his muscles.

"Really, where is he now?" Tom asked. Harry's prideful expression faltered somewhat, "He died for the Queen." Harry said, Tom at first not understanding, but then registered that he meant his father died at war.

"Pity" was all Tom said as he decided he would risk sitting next to Harry. The boy slyly grinned at him, and before Tom knew it Harry clambered onto his lap. Tom's mouth twitched as he looked down at the small boy. He wondered how old Harry was. He only looked about 5, but then again those beatings can do things to children's bodies.

"How old are you Harry?" Tom questioned while unconsciously carding to his hand through Harry's black locks. The boy seemed to like the touch and leaned into Tom's hand.

"I am seven in a half, sir." Harry said Tom couldn't tear his gaze away from the petite child. Something about the boy made his insides burn, not in pain but with a strange emotion… Was the feeling love, or a desire to protect the child, Tom could not tell. But he preferred to ignore it. He was only making small talk until someone came for the boy, he didn't want to be rude and throw the small thing out, it wouldn't be right.

Harry took the chance and made himself comfortable in Tom's lap, "I like you." He restated making sure Tom registered that. The immortal pursed his lips, he didn't want to lie, but also didn't want to upset the child. It wasn't that he didn't like Harry, far from it; it's just that he didn't want to get attached. If he created a bond with the boy he would only have a hard time with trying to fulfill his long awaited destiny, death.

But maybe this was a sign that God didn't want him to die, or try to end his life, just yet. Maybe something bigger was going to happen; maybe he was going to get something in return for his suffering. Harry's tug on Tom's hair pulled the immortal from his musings.

"What you thinking about?" Harry said giving an excuse for Tom not to answer his unasked question. "I am thinking about life." He hesitantly said, Harry smiled, "I think about life all the time." He said and then leaned into Tom's broad chest. "I sometimes wondered what it would be like if I didn't exist." Tom choked, why was this boy having such a big affect on him? Tom looked down at Harry's innocent green eyes.

Something was strange, something was not right, but all in all Tom found himself getting lost into those eyes. However, the moment was cut short, or more like ruined. When Harry's ugly Uncle appeared.

"There you are boy! Leave my guest alone, I am so sorry Mr. Riddle." Mr. Dursley said glaring evilly at the boy who now seemed to shrink in Tom's arms. The immortal had the urge to growl at the man, but instead place a hand on the small of Harry's back.

"It's quite alright, Mr. Dursley. I actually got bored, and requested for some… entertainment. Your servants told me that young Harry here was quite the joker." Tom's silky voice spread throughout the room, magic tingling on every word. Mr. Dursley's eyes dilated and a confused expression took place before he walked out of the room. To a mere human they wouldn't have notice the magic induced by Tom. But Harry did, and he was intrigued by it.

Tom glanced back down at Harry before he placed the boy on his own two feet. Harry reluctantly let go, "do I have to go, and can I not stay with you a little longer." Tom scowled inwardly the helpless puppy look that graced Harry's delicate features pained him. "Yes you must, I cannot over extend my host's hospitality." Tom said coolly, but Harry frowned.

"Then may I come again tomorrow?" Tom opened his mouth to protest at the idea, but then zipped it shut. A few minutes to ponder on it, and Tom sighed in defeat. The pleading look in Harry's eyes was too much to bear, "I suppose-"

Tom sighed once more as he was engulfed in a hug. Harry smiled at him and then let go. The immortal flared his nose at the boy and looked at him coolly, "Run along now." He said and Harry smiled. However, before the small boy left, he took the chance and kicked Tom's leg. The immortal eyes widen as he processed the action, but before he could speak the boy made his way out of the room in a fit of giggles.

Tom sighed once more carding his fingers through his hair, what was he getting himself into. The immortal laughed quietly, though, as he rubbed his leg where Harry had kicked him.

'_Mischievous little bludger…'_


End file.
